


Misadventures of Wooing, Taverns and Ale.

by Miss_Psychotic, nommedeplume



Series: The Regal Verse [2]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Drinking, Failed Courting, M/M, Medieval AU, Prince!Newt, courting, drunken kisses, hilda is a gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:50:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Psychotic/pseuds/Miss_Psychotic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nommedeplume/pseuds/nommedeplume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho and Gally take young Newt and Thomas to the tavern to celebrate there soon to be knighthood. It goes better than anticipated.</p><p>(This is The prequel to Lessons of the Knight.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misadventures of Wooing, Taverns and Ale.

**Author's Note:**

> The prequel to Lessons of the Knight.

 

 

“Come along Greenies.  Time to make men of you.”  Minho told Newt and Thomas clapping a hand on each of their shoulders, steering them away from the castle.

 

Minho and Gally were adamant about celebrating as the two had just finished their training as squires and were both being knighted the next day.

 

“Excuse you Minho, _I_ am already a _man_.”  Thomas replied shrugging the arm off and shoving the older boy who laughed.

 

“Sorry Tommy, but waking up with wet shorts in the middle of the night doesn’t mean you’re a man.”  Gally informed him giving the brunette a playful shove Thomas shoved back.

 

Newt laughed next to him.

 

“Like you’re one to talk _Your Highness_.”  Thomas retorted grumpily. 

 

“Oh come now, leave the boys alone.  It’s not their fault they don’t know what to do with the milkmaids yet.  Though _Tommy_ did make a valiant effort the other day.”  Ben, another one of the older squires teased, catching Thomas in a headlock.  Thomas dug an elbow into the older boy’s ribs and gave him a hard push. 

 

“Alright, alright. Enough horsing around. There is Ale to drink and Maidens to charm.” Minho called, getting everyone's attention back to the task at hand.

 

Gally shook his head. “If only you could convince them to be charmed.” He teased.

 

Minho gave him a cold stare.

 

“Let’s move!”

 

 

***

 

The Tavern was loud and full.

 

No one noticed the Prince amongst them, not dressed up in his disguise that Thomas and Minho had a blast putting him in. 

 

Even Chuck the page boy had a hand, assisting with ideas for his hat.

 

The result had a large feather that matched the gray hue of the heavy cape they’d draped around the blonde’s shoulders.

 

“I feel ridiculous.”  Newt complained as they entered the tavern and hunted for a table.

 

“Well you look like a disgruntled pigeon so that sounds about right.”  Gally teased.

 

“Hey that outfit is perfect.  Expertly designed to avoid scrutiny.”  Thomas argued.

 

“Avoid scrutiny? This thing attracts more attention than it diverts.” Newt pouted.

 

Thomas gave him a playful grin.

 

“I still think it’s better than just strutting in here.” Minho shrugged.

 

“I’m with you lot. Of course they’ll know it’s me.” 

 

Thomas went to speak but closed his mouth. The Prince had a very good point.

 

“Then the drinks will be free won’t they.” Gally pointed out.

 

“I have the best idea!” Thomas announced.

 

“No! don’t you dare!” Gally shot back, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

 

“Look if we buy everyone in the tavern a pint to keep your being here secret, they will.”

 

“Or.” The barmaiden spoke up coming to where they were gathered.

 

“You could see Lady Hilda here and ask for the private table in the back.” She winked.

 

“Hilda, my kind sweet, fair, maiden. Might we have the honour of occupying your private table in the back?” Minho asked, giving her his best smile.

 

Hilda rolled her eyes.

 

“Follow me.” 

 

 

***

 

“And then! Then we had to carry his ass back to the tent!” The whole table erupted into laughter.

 

Hilda was replenishing their drinks, yet again and smiled along with the story.

 

“I heard he almost lost the leg.” She commented.

 

“Only the foul one between his other two.” Minho winked at her.

 

Hilda scoffed.

 

“You young ones. Always thinking with your equipment and never your heart.” She commented.

 

Minho gave her a wounded look. “You slay me Hilda, for if I was to speak of the heart, it would say-”

 

“Shut it. It ain't gonna work.” Hilda cut him off and shut him down.

 

Minho did not pout.

 

When she walked off Gally let out a loud snort of laughter which set off Newt and Thomas, giggling under their breaths.

 

“I don’t see you making any progress.” The asian man commented, glaring at Gally.

 

The boy rolled his eyes and scanned the room for a girl to talk to.

 

“Sandra.” He grinned.

 

“Alright lads, watch and learn.” He stood up, straightening his shirt and slicking back his hair just right.

 

“This will be good.” Thomas whispered to Newt.

 

The Prince let out a small giggle, already well on his way to drunk and possibly quite tipsy.

 

“Woo her stockings off.” The blonde teased.

 

 

***

 

10 minutes later Gally returned to the table. Still dripping wet from the half pint of Ale Sandra had poured over his head during his failed attempt at wooing her to his bed.

 

Newt and Thomas were in hysterics, almost crying from laughter while Minho smirked proudly.

 

“I hope you learnt from that boys.” He commented to the youngers.

 

“Yeah, learnt that Sandra has a feisty temper and the direct approach isn’t a good idea.” Thomas chuckled. 

 

Newt was leaning on his side, still giggling and gasping for breath, tears rolling down his cheeks from his mirth.

 

When the blonde Prince had calmed down enough to sit up straight they ordered another round in solidarity to Minho and Gally’s failed attempts at love.

 

“Alright, Thomas. Your turn.” Gally told him.

 

Thomas’ eyes went wide, like a deer caught in the crossfire.

 

“Me? Why me?” He asked.

 

“Find a girl and try your luck.”

 

“What if I don’t want to?”

 

Gally scoffed.

 

“Scared?”

 

“No, I just don’t plan on rolling around in bed with any of the women here.” The brunette shrugged.

 

“Got your eye on a certain lady of the court?” Minho teased.

 

“Something like that.” 

 

“Well go on then, give us a sample. Mr Princely over here is pretty like a girl, use him.” 

 

Newt wanted to object, Thomas had already turned to look at him, a hopeful look on his face.

 

“Alright, go on then. Woo your Prince.” The blonde challenged.

 

Thomas laughed.

 

“As you wish My Lord.” He gave a small bow. 

 

Thomas picked up his pint and drained the rest of it, clearing his throat he turned to his friend.  Reaching out he took the Prince’s pale hand in his and looked deep into his soft brown eyes.

 

“Oh he’s got the look down.” Minho whispered to Gally who shushed him.

 

“Shall I compare thee to a summers day?” Thomas started. 

 

Newt snorted an incredulous laugh.

 

Thomas stopped and gave him an over exaggerated pout.

 

“You want me to woo you or not?” He asked.

 

Newt tried to school his face into a blank mask again, nodding the whole time.

 

“Okay. Okay. give me a moment. Okay. Woo me Tommy.” He smiled brilliantly.

 

Thomas cleared this throat again.

 

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” The brunette spoke smooth and confident.

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date.” 

 

Newt couldn’t remember where he had heard this poem before but he was starting to believe that poetry was the best way to go when wooing.

 

Thomas’ voice was confident and strong with every word, but his eyes gave them sincerity, a deeper meaning.

 

The Prince was so caught up in Thomas’ eyes he missed most of the poem, only coming back into focus near the end.

 

“By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st, Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade.”

 

Minho and Gally were leaning on each other snickering and laughing.

 

Thomas’ confidence was slipping, eyes no longer so bright.

 

“When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st. So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see.” His voice softened, sitting back down and turning away from Newt, face red.

 

“So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” He muttered the end, shoulders hunched, head bowed while the two older boys practically rolled about on the floor laughing at him.

 

“Oh cut it out will you.” The brunette snapped, unsure why he was so upset by their humour. He had laughed at them.

 

Newt put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder.

 

“Consider me Wooed good Sir Knight.” He smiled kindly, truth be told his heart was beating wildly in his chest and his stomach coiled tightly with anticipation.

 

He was half expecting Thomas to try and kiss him for all the sincerity he felt of the words, but without the follow through Newt was left to consider that this was in fact just his friend projecting onto the blonde Prince. 

 

Newt never knew he wanted Thomas to woo him until now. A sick feeling of jealousy taking hold at the thought of his friend repeating those words to a maiden of the court.

 

Gally and Minho had finally composed themselves enough to clap and cheer the boy. 

 

“Well done! How’d he do Princeling? Are the cockles of your heart warmed?” Minho teased.

 

Newt rolled his eyes.

 

“If I were a maiden I’d be leading him to bed right now.” Newt said matter-of-fact.

 

Thomas looked up then and gave the blonde a small smile.

 

“That’s not fair! You’re his friend of course you’d say that!”

 

The smile fell from Thomas’ face.

 

“I’m done. I’m going to bed.” Thomas announced standing up.

 

“Awwww!” The two drunken older boys pouted. 

 

“Did we hurt your feelings?” Gally teased.

 

Thomas glared.

 

“I’m ready for bed. We need to get Newt back to his rooms.”

 

“We can make it.” Newt told him, standing up himself and promptly sitting back down.

 

“Oh, that doesn't feel good.” He muttered.

 

Thomas cracked a grin despite himself.

 

“C’mon _Your Highness_ let’s get you to bed.”

 

“ _Oh Tommy_!” Minho pretended to swoon. “Poetry and then taking me to bed.” He continued, pretending to be Newt.

 

“Hush my little Princeling, I will take care of you and your blessed virtue!” Gally played along.

 

“You’re drunk and you’re idiots.” Thomas told them both.

 

“And we are leaving. Good night.” 

 

Thomas wrapped his arm around Newt and helped the boy walk out of the Tavern, Hilda waving as they left.

 

“Tommy.” Newt said when they were sneaking through the entrance hall.

 

“Mmmm?” 

 

“I liked your poetry.” The blonde boy confessed.

 

Thomas blushed.

 

“I’m glad you did.” He replied.

 

“There you are!” Both boys jumped in fright, standing up straight and Newt wincing at the light of the lantern.

 

“My Lord!” Thomas gasped, giving him a quick bow that made him feel nauseous from the movement.

 

The king looked the two boys up and down. 

 

“At least you’re in once piece. What on earth are you wearing son?” He asked the Prince.

 

“Oh.” Newt replied, looking a little green himself. Hands reaching up to his hat, the feather had been destroyed sometime during the evenings festivities and his cape was suspiciously stained.

 

“It was the guy’s idea. To disguise me.” He explained, taking the hat off altogether.

 

The king grinned at his son.

 

“Did you have a good night at least?” 

 

The King had known all night where his son was. Hilda had sent a messenger as soon as the blonde prince had entered her doors and she had promised to not let any harm come to the boy. But knowing he was with Sir Minho and Sir Gally, and the lazy but seemingly clever Thomas, The king was certain they would be fine.

 

Newt nodded and winced at how it made him feel.

 

Chuckling the King nodded.

 

“Get him up to his rooms. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” Knowing the hangover the boy would surely have, he figured that would be all the punishment he needed for now.

 

Thomas moved quickly and picked Newt’s arm up, wrapping it around himself again and steering him up the stairs to the Prince’s quarters.

 

“How are you so heavy?” The brunette panted from exertion.

 

Newt giggled like a drunken schoolgirl.

 

“Maybe you need to work out more.” The Prince told him. “You should train to be a knight.” He teased.

 

Thomas let out an indignant gasp. “What? _Your Highness_! How could you say that?” He sniffed. “You’ve gone and hurt my feelings now, and after I recited poetry for you and all.” he scoffed theatrically. “Besides I’d be an awful knight.” 

 

Newt rolled his eyes.

 

“I’m letting you take me to bed aren’t I?” He teased, feeling nervous as he spoke. Wondering if Thomas would catch his meaning.

 

Thomas laughed.

 

“So you are my dear Prince.” The brunette smiled.

 

When they reached his door, Thomas propped Newt up against it.

 

“I trust you’ll be able to find the bed on your own?” He joked.

 

Newt nodded, having sobered up a little on the walk over.

 

“I.” He started.

 

“I did like the poetry.” He blurted.

 

Thomas felt his cheeks heat up.

 

“I’m glad. I kind of learnt it with you in mind.” He admitted.

 

It took a few moments for Newt’s drunken mind to comprehend what the boy was telling him.

 

“But? The maiden in the court?”

 

“I lied. You’re far more stunning than any maiden I could ever meet.” 

 

“I don’t understand.” Newt told him honestly, still confused.

 

“I... I could never think of a maiden the way I do you. You who are my sun and my moon. For your hair shines as golden as wheat, and your stunning gaze sinks my stomach to my feet.” Thomas whispered.

 

“Your friendship is bold and it brings me great joy. There is nothing I want more than you, sweet, kind boy. For you may be my Prince, and I a part of your court. But there isn’t a single moment, you don’t occupy my thought.”

 

“Stop.” Newt put a hand on the boy’s chest.

 

“Please. Stop.” 

 

Thomas’ stomach dropped. 

 

“I’m sorry if I have offended you.” He started to apologise.

 

Newt, fisted his hand in the nobleboy’s shirt and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

 

“The only thing that offends me is your god awful prose. Never write me poetry again.”

 

Thomas let out a low giggle, giddy from drink and the realization that his affection was returned.

 

“But you said you liked my poetry.”  He pouted playfully having the audacity to lean in and steal a second kiss

 

Newt giggled again.

 

“I like you reciting good poetry to me, not fumbling through that atrocious klunk.” 

 

Thomas grinned.

 

“Alright, but only if you agree to let me court you.” He bargained.

 

Newt sucked in a shaky breath.

 

“Tommy...”

 

“Please. I’ll be discreet but I... I want to do this right. Please, Newt.”

 

The blonde swallowed thickly and nodded.

 

“Alright. But you must be discreet, Father can’t know.” 

 

Thomas beamed at him nodding quickly and then groaning when his head span.

 

“Go to bed. I’ll see you at breakfast.” The blonde kissed him again, quickly.

 

“I’ll count the seconds.”

 

Newt rolled his eyes at the boy and slipped inside his door.

 

Thomas watched until the door was firmly closed before throwing his fist in the air in victory, strutting happily down the corridor before jumping up and clicking his heels in excitement.

 

He fumbled the landing and stumbled a few steps, crashing into a statue, but he managed to ensure it didn’t fall and set it right before getting to his own rooms.

 

Tomorrow he would start his courting.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't forget to comment your thoughts, we love hearing them!  
> The next part will be out soon.


End file.
